


Blissful Reunion

by Whispering_Rayn



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 16:53:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7230778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whispering_Rayn/pseuds/Whispering_Rayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a mother who outlives her child, death is not so painful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blissful Reunion

The beauty of the Alternian sky lies in expanse above you but the twinkling eyes of the eldritch gods mean nothing anymore. The distant moons and their brilliant glow is no longer a light to follow. The rush of the waves beat against the hull of the ship is fading into silence to you. 

You stare up at the sky and up at the highblood towering over you, gun’s barrel still smoking with the recently fired shot. His violet armor has spatters and smears of jade on its polished metal and the ends of his cape are beginning to pick up the color as well from the pool spreading slowly across the deck from the source of your pain.

You can’t see it but you can feel it. The place on your belly which you’ve seen and felt but never paid attention to it blown open. It feels cold and yet it burns with the pain of a thousand solar flares in your flesh. Your cool Jade blood does nothing to soothe it.

You try to draw a breath but suddenly you’re drowning and your body begins to shake as you diaphragm works frantically to free your lungs. All that comes from your lips, wide in a silent scream of agony, is jade. A rich color both cool and comforting, now welling in your throat and dripping from your mouth. The taste of blood is not new to you, but this time, it comes with fear rather than satisfaction.

The man with the sloping horns snarls down at you but his word are muffled and distant in your ears. You know that man though it doesn’t register in your mind now. He’d been the one who gave you the crisscrossed road map of scars on your back. Sweeps marked out in lashes on your shoulders.

The man’s attention is pulled up as another voice splits the air, enraged and anguished. This one is higher but brings just as little comfort. A woman clad in cobalt blue pirates garb steps forward, her flowing ebony curls thrown out of her way and held back by a scarf of the same color. The woman’s blue eyes looked down at her, not in horror, but in sadness and disappointment. Then she looked to the violetblood and bared her teeth as she yelled, drawing her cutlass from its sheath.

The stars above you are fading now, going out one my one it seems, like the sun is rising but the ever dark blue sky held its color, giving no sign of the warmth of day coming for you. You can’t feel the wooden deck beneath you or how your limbs are splayed out not-so-gracefully. You only feel the pain in your stomach as it radiates throughout your being.

The chill of adrenaline isn’t helping and fear is beginning to fully settle in your mind.

Despite the hells you’ve been through, you don’t want to die. You can feel your bloodpusher, straining and unrelenting. You want to live.

But the world is fading now, fading too quickly. The highblood fighting above you mean nothing to you now. The stars mean nothing to you now.

As your vision is fading, a new vision is forming in your mind and taking precedence.

A smiling face you haven’t seen in sweeps outside of your dreams.

A warm gaze, irises dimmed red by stress and age. Shaggy hair that is mussed from its time under a hood. Round horns, lightly chipped in some spots, peaking through the dark locks. Thick brows with thin creases of age between them.

The smile parts but the fangs behind those dry and cracked lips are not threatening.

A voice as warm as the sun itself hits you as the mouth says:

“Mother…”

And suddenly, death is a blessing once more...

You let go and accept his warm embrace. Holding his warmth close, you press your face into his thick curls and whisper:  
“Signless… my son…”


End file.
